Running Down the Length of My Thigh
by Bratette
Summary: Something is up with Brittany. Her sisters are worried when they keep seeing different marks on her. Of course, they wouldn't possibly believe her if she told them where they were really coming from... AxB, rated M for a reason! One-shot.


**A/N: This is going to be short and simple. I'm not used to writing M stories and can't start out with something totally out there. I get embarrassed and trash it, so hopefully going slow will help me get over that issue.  
**

**I hope the POV tense switches aren't confusing, I thought it would work well for the story.  
**

**Um, yeah... enjoy. *hides in a corner***

**Disclaimer: Alvin and Brittany, along with any other characters mentioned, belong to Bagdasarian Productions. The title is from the song _My Sharona_ because why not.  
**

* * *

"What is _that?_"

Her blue eyes never left the mirror she was staring into. She continued her primping, fluffing up her hair and applying more gloss, as if the question had flown right over her head.

"Brittany," her sister said, louder this time, "What is that on your arm?"

She avoided looking at Eleanor, busying her hands by putting her makeup away into the bathroom cabinet. She could feel Eleanor's demanding stare practically boring a hole into the back of her head. "It's nothing," she finally said, turning to make her way out of the bathroom. She was stopped by Eleanor holding out her arm.

"It doesn't look like nothing," Eleanor insisted.

In hindsight, Brittany could understand the blonde Chipette's worry. The bruise on her arm wasn't anything major and could have easily been caused from bumping into something. Still, if the situation were reversed, she would demand to know what happened.

"Well, it is," she snapped, brushing past Eleanor. "I got it at cheer practice."

The situation wasn't reversed, however, and right then she just wanted Eleanor to mind her own business. There was definitely _nothing_ to worry about.

* * *

_She attempts to arch her back without even realizing it, but his hands are on her and hold her down. His hands are always what are all over her - gripping her ass, palming her breasts, running along her sides or resting on her thigh. The marks on her prove it._

_"Not so tight," she hisses.  
_

_"What's the matter?" he asks, pausing to leave a trail of kisses down her neck while she eagerly gives him more access, "Can't handle it?"_

_He's always making stupid remarks like that and it pisses her off. When she agreed to do this with him, she didn't say he could be an asshole about it. Determined now, she pushes herself forward and kisses him as hard as she can to prove that _damn straight,_ she can handle it._

_He growls low in his throat and pins her back down, going lower and lower with his kisses. She can already feel the bruise on her arm due to his tight grip._

* * *

"A-are you okay, Brittany?"_  
_

Startled, Brittany turned around, only to be met with a wide eyed Jeanette.

"Of course I am," she replied, holding the towel around her tighter.

"Oh, alright," Jeanette nodded slowly. She turned, as if she weren't going to press it any further, then seemingly changed her mind and looked back at Brittany. "Where... where did you get those scratches from?"

Brittany studied her own back in the mirror. Only a few were visible, thank God for the towel, otherwise she was sure Jeanette would have been even more concerned.

"From the cat," she huffed, moving past to Jeanette to step into their bedroom, the bespectacled Chipette following behind her. She had never liked Miss Miller's cat and was always annoyed that it seemed to seriously have nine lives and was _still_ around the house, but it did make for a good excuse.

Jeanette looked satisfied by her answer. "You should put some medicine on it," she offered, lingering by the doorway. "Would you like me to help?"

"No, it's fine," Brittany smiled. "Don't worry about it."

* * *

_His free hand moves down to her clit, the other tangled in her hair. The moment his finger slides into her wet heat, she throws her head back against the pillow, her toes curling. The anticipation keeps building until it's almost too much to handle, his fingers creating a fire inside of her and _shit,_ he's good with his hands._

_"God," she groans, gripping the sheets under her. "Keep doing that."  
_

_"You like that?"_

_"Mhm."_

_She's so lost in the ecstasy, she can't even find it in herself to care about the smug look on his face or the fact that she's being too obvious about how much she's enjoying it. He keeps working on her and she prepares herself, on the edge and almost there, and then suddenly he stops and she's glaring at him._

_She _hates_ when he does that._

_Before she can protest he leans forward and smashes his lips against hers. She follows his lead despite the throbbing and sits up, deciding to get payback. Her hand trails down to his member, wrapping around it. She smiles against his mouth as he reacts to it, she knows how to do all the right things to him since she's gotten so used to him by now._

_While her hand helps turn the tables and have him at her mercy instead, his own are on her back, his nails digging into her skin. He moves one back down to where it had been before and she's back to practically seeing stars in her eyes, attempting to keep herself focused on what she's doing while both of his hands torture her in different ways._

_"Fuck, Brittany," he mutters, and the need in his voice is enough to distract her from the marks she knows she's going to have on her back._

* * *

Both of her sisters continued to stare her down. It was obvious she wasn't going to get out of this one easily.

"Okay, seriously," Eleanor's brown eyes were narrowed. "What the hell is going on?"

"You c-can tell us, Brittany," Jeanette urged, fiddling with her hands while she spoke.

Brittany shut her locker, rolling her eyes. "Would you guys just leave me alone?" she snapped, adjusting the scarf she wore across her neck. It was supposed to help hide the hickey, but it wasn't doing much. "It's none of your business."

"It _is_ our business when you haven't been telling us the truth," Eleanor insisted. In a softer tone, she added, "We're worried. Why won't you tell us what's really going on?"

"I already did," Brittany said. "I told you, I burned myself with my curling iron."

* * *

_He's inside her and she can't help but think about how much she loves the feeling of it. She pulls his head down to kiss him, hoping to avoid the familiar heat and not come too fast. He eagerly kisses her back until his lips move to her jaw, then to her neck and then her collarbone._

_"You know," she starts to say absentmindedly, "Jeremy asked me out today."_

_She doesn't get a response, instead he growls and sucks at the skin on her neck._

_"I told him no."_

_She knows they're not dating, she knows this isn't something serious, but the look on his face once she says that makes her smile._

_"Good," he breathes against her, returning his attention to her neck before adding, "you're _mine._"_

* * *

"I'm not taking any ridiculous excuses this time!" Eleanor's arms were crossed and her face was a complete look of '_not-dealing-with-the-bullshit'_. "Tell me what's going on right now."

Brittany, sick of having to deal with Eleanor's constant nagging, decided enough was enough. The cat was going to be let out of the bag sooner or later anyway.

"Fine, you really want to know?" she raised an eyebrow. "Alvin and I are fucking. Happy?"

Not even giving Eleanor the time to react, Brittany stood and stormed out of the room. The blonde Chipette frowned, trying to process what she'd just been told. Eventually she started to laugh at the ridiculous idea that Alvin and Brittany could actually be fucking when all they were doing lately was going at each other's throats.

_She must really not want to tell me the truth,_ Eleanor thought.

* * *

**A/N: I'm sorry if this sucked. I tried, I did!**

**And because I have a feeling someone is going to think it, NO, this is not supporting abuse. It's not abuse. Alvin and Brittany would totally have rough sex. That's all.**

**Depending on the feedback this gets, I might write more M rated stories in the future. Reviews would be greatly appreciated.**


End file.
